


Conjoined

by The_German_Grim_Reaper



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cuddling, Episode: s03e07 Digestivo, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, First Kiss, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, comfort after the hurt that was that episode, or rather
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:00:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26894074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_German_Grim_Reaper/pseuds/The_German_Grim_Reaper
Summary: Will wakes up a little bit earlier when Hannibal rescues him from Muskrat Farm.  There is bed sharing and an important conversation.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 16
Kudos: 298
Collections: ACOC Server Compilation





	Conjoined

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this week's prompt, "cuddling," in our discord server. join here: https://discord.gg/5WtSbRC

Will’s eyes fluttered open as Hannibal carried him into the house. He felt cold down to the bone, his cheek still stinging from where the scalpel had entered it. His forehead was sticky with drying blood. “Hannibal?” he tried to say, but the word was slurred almost beyond recognition.

“Shh, Will, it’s all right,” Hannibal told him softly, shutting the door behind them with his foot and limping the rest of the way over to the bed. “Are you in any pain?”

Will tried to shake his head. It didn’t work. The motion sent a wave of pain through his spine and, with what little movement his face could manage, he grimaced. In the past twenty-four hours he’d been pushed off a train, shot, drugged, almost had his skull sliced open with a bone saw, been kidnapped, drugged again, and then almost had his face cut off without anesthesia. So yes, of course he was in pain.

Hannibal nodded as though he’d expected that answer, setting Will gently on top of the mattress. The blankets were a bit musty from sitting there for months, but they were still good blankets, and Will felt a comfortable warmth settle over him as Hannibal pulled them up to his shoulders. Hannibal didn’t look too good himself, face splattered with dried blood and exhaustion pulling at the corners of his eyes. What had Verger done to him while Will was kept away?

“I’ll make you something to eat,” Hannibal said, but Will shook his head.

“No,” he managed to say, this attempt at speaking marginally more successful than his previous one. “Too tired.”

Clearly Hannibal could understand him well enough because the older man nodded, looking relieved. Too tired to keep his mask up, perhaps, or maybe he just didn’t see the need for one. “Then sleep,” he said.

Will did not close his eyes, staring at Hannibal instead and hoping his expression conveyed what his words could not.

Hannibal studied his face for a moment more before sighing. “I’ll still be here when you wake up,” he promised.

Will relaxed at that. Or rather, he would have relaxed, had he not been almost completely paralyzed from whatever drugs Cordell had given him. He allowed his eyes to drift shut.

There was a sound from the corner of the room- furniture being dragged on wood? His eyes opened again, straining to see Hannibal. He managed to turn his head a bit to see that Hannibal was preparing to sit down in the armchair with nothing but his clothes and a ratty old quilt to keep him warm. Will scowled.

“You’re an idiot,” he said. The words felt foreign on his tongue, still heavy from the paralysis, but he was relieved to find that he was at least capable of speaking in full sentences. It was _exhausting_ , though.

“Excuse me?” For once in his life, Hannibal looked genuinely taken aback.

Will rolled his eyes. “You’ll freeze.” His words were slurring again as the exhaustion overtook his body, but he forced himself to stay awake. “You…”

Unable to make his mouth cooperate any longer, he tilted his head towards the empty side of the bed and hoped Hannibal would understand the gesture. Hannibal’s eyebrows rose.

“Are you sure?” he asked, sounding rather concerned. “I wouldn’t want to…”

Will wasn’t sure how Hannibal would have finished that sentence. Wouldn’t want to what? To impose? To invade his personal space? Hannibal had a bad habit of doing those things anyway. Still, he forced himself to nod, the movement agony on his weakened muscles.

Hannibal walked around to the other side of the bed. Will wanted to turn his head to look at him, but couldn’t find the strength; there was a moment of hesitation before he felt another man’s weight upon the bed and the blankets were shifting, being pulled over another body.

Will finally allowed himself to drift off to sleep, soothed by the sound of a serial killer’s quiet breath in the bed beside him. 

  
  


***

When Will woke up again, it was to the feeling of hands in his hair. He was still in his bed, tucked under a dusty old quilt, but he wasn’t alone. There was another body in the bed beside him, pressed flush against his back, one hand draped over his hip and the other tangled in his curls. It took a moment for Will to remember the events of the day before, but when he did, he froze.

“Will?” Hannibal’s voice murmured from somewhere close to his ear. Will couldn’t help but shiver and he immediately wished he hadn’t.

“I’m sorry, I just-” He cut himself off, not really knowing what to say. Hannibal was a serial killer, after all, a man who had tried to saw his skull open and eat his brain not two days ago, and now Will was cuddling with him? He didn’t really know what he was supposed to be feeling at the moment, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t the calm contentment that threatened to wash over him.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Hannibal told him, withdrawing his hands from where they had been resting. He pulled away from Will, but only by a few inches; Will was startled to realize that he was firmly on Hannibal's side of the bed. There probably wasn’t anywhere else the man _could_ go without falling out of it. “You were sleeping. I would have pulled away when I woke up, but you seemed rather comfortable that way.”

Will blushed, glad his head was still turned so the other man couldn’t see it. “Still. Sorry.” He did his best to shift back over to his half of the bed, although he only made it about halfway there before he collapsed back onto the pillows in exhaustion. “You slept?”

“Only briefly. We’ve been here for about four hours. I estimate we have at least another six before Jack Crawford comes looking for me, assuming he made it out of Italy.”

There was a moment of silence and Will knew they were both remembering what had happened there at that dinner table in Florence. Will, strapped to a chair, too disoriented to even scream as Hannibal held that bone saw to his forehead. They both spoke at the same time.

“Will, I-”

“Hannibal-”

Will chuckled. “You first,” he offered, twisting his body around so he was facing the other man.

“I’d like to apologize for what happened in Florence. Attempting to eat you was a carefully thought out decision, but an irrational one nonetheless. Rest assured that I no longer have any intention of ending your life.”

“Not today,” Will allowed. “But we both know you’ll be changing your mind about that the second I do something to betray you.”

“If I had succeeded in my plan to consume your brain, I would have regretted it for the rest of my life. And regret is not an emotion I experience often. You have nothing to fear from me, Will, not anymore.”

There was a brief hesitation after he spoke and then Hannibal reached out, hand moving in a way Will would almost call tender, to brush a stray curl out of Will’s eye. His knuckles grazed the skin of Will’s forehead, just to the edge of the bandage, and Will’s breath hitched.

Hannibal’s hand stilled, not moving from where it hovered just above Will’s face. His eyes roved Will’s face thoroughly, taking in every microexpression. Then, slowly, he lowered his hand to cup Will’s cheek.

“May I?” he asked softly, gazing into Will’s eyes as though he were the most wonderful thing Hannibal had ever seen. Will, for all that he avoided eye contact, couldn’t bring himself to look away. He dipped his head slightly in consent.

Hannibal leaned in slowly, giving Will plenty of time to pull away. He did not. His eyes fluttered shut as he felt Hannibal’s breath on his lips, tantalizingly close. Then their lips brushed together and Will’s whole world stopped.

It was a slow kiss, gentle, almost _worshipful_. There was no tongue involved, although Will half wished there would have been. Hannibal pulled away after a few seconds, looking down at Will with gentle eyes. “Is this okay?” he asked.

“ _Okay?_ ” Will gasped. “God, it’s- yes, of course it’s okay.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to presume.”

“You’re an idiot,” Will said. “Kiss me again.”

Hannibal chuckled softly. “Not tonight, _mylimasis_. I’ll need to be leaving soon if I want to escape the country before Jack catches up with me.”

Will’s breath caught in his throat, but not in a good way this time. “On your own?” he asked, unable to hide the slight waver in his voice.

Hannibal blinked, his expression changing to something a little more hopeful than what it had been before. “Well,” he said again. “I wouldn’t want to presume.”

“I was ready to run away with you that night, Hannibal. If things hadn’t- if _I_ hadn’t messed everything up…”

“Come with me tonight. The teacup was shattered, but it can be rebuilt. A few pieces missing, but all the more beautiful for what it has lost.”

Will swallowed, unable to give voice to his thoughts as tears gathered in his eyes. Abigail was gone, now- her hallucinations no longer living in crevices at the back of Will’s mind- but the teacup could live on. “Where will we go?” he asked hoarsely.

Hannibal smiled at him indulgently. “Anywhere you want, _mylimasis_. Anywhere you want.”

For the first time since the knife had entered his gut that night in the kitchen, Will allowed himself to believe that maybe- just maybe- everything would be okay.


End file.
